


Giving

by technosaurus54



Series: It Started With a Straitjacket [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF, Geek & Sundry RPF
Genre: Begging, Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Suspension Bondage, casually invents bondage gear, heavy submission, oh no I think I can't stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 03:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technosaurus54/pseuds/technosaurus54
Summary: Liam asks for gentle, gets what he wants and more.





	Giving

**Author's Note:**

> This takes places several months after Necessity. Liam and Ivan have monthly date nights dedicated to kink. That's all the plot that exists. 
> 
> I have caught the bug. Oh no. Will I ever stop writing?
> 
> Written in present tense. Unbeta'd.

Giving

 

“Ivan?” They’re cuddling on the couch together, watching Netflix. Liam was tired, and hadn’t felt like doing much for their scheduled date night except dinner. At least, 3 hours ago that’s how he felt.

“Hmm?”

“I’m changing my mind,” he nuzzles into Ivan’s neck, shyly hiding a smile.

“Mhm,” Ivan hums, waiting.

“No pain though. I want gentle tonight.”

Without missing a beat Ivan gathers Liam close and starts petting him.

“Would you like a massage?” Ivan purrs.

Liam groans. “That sounds amazing.”

Ivan nudges Liam back, and then simply scoops him up bridal style.

“It’s so easy to forget how strong you are."

Ivan nods. “You know, we’ve barely touched my closet. I do own a bull whip.”

Liam’s eyes go wide. 

“Wow.”

“You should see what I can do with it.”

“I don’t think I can handle that level of pain,” he chuckles.

“Perhaps. I know for a fact though that you want to play with fire more.”

“You light it on _fire_?” He never thought one could actually be a Balrog.

“I do.” He tosses Liam playfully onto the bed, crawling on top of him.

“That sounds hot.”

They both laugh.

Ivan kisses him, and the weight of him settles into Liam’s bones, tranquilizing. 

“Maybe I do want to be bound tonight.” He admits sheepishly.

Ivan grins knowingly.

“That’s what I’m here for Treasure.”

Instead of immediately fetching the jacket, Ivan removes their clothing and rolls Liam over, starting in on his muscles, kneading and rubbing and caressing. He works Liam like magic, tendrils of warmth spreading gradually throughout his body until he’s sighing softly with every stroke, every progression.

“That’s right,” he croons. “Relax. Give yourself to me.”

This is different than when he’s bound and blind and helpless, but he still feels compelled to listen, to obey. The world falls away, leaving only heat and contentment, Ivan’s voice and his hands. The method of falling is different, but the surrender is the same.

“You’re so good to me,” Liam sighs.

“You deserve it,” he whispers hot into his ear, letting Liam hear the affection in his voice, the rumble of undeniability.

This side of being owned is unexpected. Under the surface he always knows it isn’t a game; the feelings they have for each other are real. Years of proximity somehow bled deeper, so now it’s only natural to concede, to believe him.

Ivan gets up, and Liam reaches out, halting his movements.

“Keep me covered?” He’s so warm, wants to stay that way.

Ivan tucks him into the comforter. Liam watches Ivan glide away, some ethereal being, no matter that he’s naked, there’s a power there, unmistakable. It’s dangerous, he knows, to always attribute the level of worship he feels toward Ivan right now. But it’s impossible not to in moments like this. He feels no shame, no hesitancy in asking for his needs, his desires, on these nights. And it’s such a welcome reprieve from having to pretend he’s confident, pretend he’s an adult and knows what he’s doing. Here he can simple be, and Ivan fills in the gaps.

Instead of the jacket, Ivan comes back holding something else. It’s vaguely straitjacket shaped, but instead of canvas it looks softer, made of some sort of padded, paneled fabric.

“Sit up for me treasure,” his voice is firm, but tinged with fondness instead of command.

Ivan eases the strange contraption on. The arms are sewn against the sides into the body from the elbows up to the shoulders, the forearms tapered similarly to the standard jacket, so there’s several inches of fabric hanging down, with straps for tying at the ends.

Liam flails his arms playfully and giggles. “What is this?”

“I call it the comfort jacket. I had it custom made for you.” He pulls two straps sewn across the chest and out onto the back taut, and Liam feels himself melt.

“It’s nice,” he purrs.

Ivan hums softly. “The back can strap shut or remain open,” he rubs soothing circles across his shoulders. “Do you want it open or closed?”

“Open sounds nice. Can you hold me?”

They lay back down and Ivan arranges them so they’re one solid line, skin touching from neck to entangled feet, Liam the little spoon. He’s secure and cocooned on the front of his body and seeping deeply into Ivan’s embrace on the back of his body, the comforter draped over them. He can’t remember ever feeling this safe.

“This is amazing,” he sighs.

“I thought you’d like it,” Ivan rumbles against his neck.

Liam drifts peacefully, Ivan softly sucking his neck and peppering his back with kisses. They are both most certainly aroused, Liam can feel Ivan’s hips steadily grind against his backside occasionally, but there’s no rush, no urgency. He briefly contemplates simply falling asleep, but as comforting as it is to be restrained while awake, he doubts his body will agree in the morning.

Ivan gradually shifts them so he can rub and knead Liam’s temples, stroke across his forehead and his cheeks, loosen the muscles of his jaw. Without thought Liam opens his mouth and seeks out Ivan’s fingers, moaning contently when he’s obliged. He sucks those fingers harder and deeper, until Ivan is breathing heavily into his ear, groaning.

“Would you like to suck on something else treasure?”

He nods and whines when Ivan removes his fingers, trying to follow them. Ivan chuckles and rolls away. He sits Liam up and tightens the straps, securing the jacket closed, and Liam sinks deeper into the current.

Ivan tosses a pillow onto the floor and guides Liam onto his knees, who shivers.

“I’m cold now." 

Playfully rolling his eyes, Ivan grabs the comforter and drapes it over Liam. His laughter fills the room.

“You look like a caterpillar.”

“I’m comfy,” Liam grins dreamily.

“Well little caterpillar, come here.”

Ivan scoots to the end of the bed and gently guides Liam’s mouth onto him, the musky smell seeping into Liam’s senses. At first he rhythmically sucks just the tip, then works his way down, focusing on pressure and heat instead of movement. It’s quite enjoyable for him, and knows it must be maddening for Ivan, but he is indulged until he’s panting, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded, gazing up at Ivan, worshiping him.

Ivan looms over him, all consuming, and without instruction Liam begins moving.

“Good boy.”

That praise is infectious, spurring him on to take him faster, deeper, his gag reflex relaxing but still triggered, prompting delicious tendrils of the haze that comes with willingly choking himself. This, he thinks, is true submission. He is openly giving all that he is to Ivan. He isn’t questioning his actions at all, simply following his urges, and each moment, each reaction, is warmly received.

“My precious treasure,” Ivan whispers in awe.

Spit is slipping out of his mouth and trailing down his chin, his arms firmly bound at his sides. He’s vaguely aware he’s trying to hump the pillow unsuccessfully. His entire body is trembling with sensation, and he whines desperately.

Ivan comes with a shout, pulling back before Liam surges forward, determined to not let go. He sucks gently, swallowing loudly, messy, and Ivan groans. 

He pushes a curl away from Liam’s eyes and cradles him in his palm.

“Look at you,” he is quite clearly debauched, filthy, and needy. “So raw and pliant. All mine.”

Liam nods hastily, whining pathetically now, hot need building rapidly in him, filling him to the brim with desire.

“Please,” he pants. “Please.”

“What do you want treasure?” Ivan whispers.

“I,” he pants more. “I don’t know,” he’s getting dizzy, the weight of his urgency overwhelming. He tilts forward, burrowing into Ivan’s belly.

“Here,” Ivan says, lifting him up, placing him gently on the bed. He rotates Liam, grabbing the straps hanging from the bottom of the front of the jacket and drawing them between Liam’s legs, connecting them at the back. Then he wraps the comforter back around him.

“Close your eyes. Count your breaths for me out loud.”

So Liam counts. Quickly at first, and then slower as his breathing calms, and it’s remarkable how Ivan knew that would help. It doesn’t make sense how well they work together; but it’s not magic, it’s years of experience and trust employed in an untraditional manner.

He hears odd sounds of metal and wheels, and Ivan grunting. He’s assembling something from the closet. Ivan wheels it closer to the bed and then sits Liam up. It’s a stand of some kind, made of solid steel and at least 8 feet tall. It looks similar to a pull up bar, but has various hooks and ties all over it.

Ivan attaches a solid looking hook to the center of the bar and secures it in place. He uncovers Liam and guides him so he’s standing right beneath the bar.

“Tighten your muscles,” he instructs, and Liam is reminded of gymnastics. When Ivan grabs him around his hips and lifts him off the ground, Liam bends his knees and jumps, helping the same way he was taught to mount the uneven bars when he was little. But instead of the security of grasping the bar firmly with his hands, Ivan places him on the hook, and suddenly he’s weightless.

His breath catches as he realizes he’s dangling, suspended in air and on full display.

“There now,” Ivan grins. “Is that better?”

“Uh huh,” he mumbles.

Ivan lets him float there for a while, marveling in being untethered to the ground. There is no sensation like it. Sometimes he missed gymnastics, the feeling of mastery that came along with manipulating his body in ways no other activity expected. This was the antithesis of that feeling; it was all consuming and unexpectedly arousing.

Just as he realizes his eyes are closed, he feels breath on his lips and he opens his eyes to find Ivan merely inches from him.

“Hey there little caterpillar.”  

And Ivan devours him.

He has absolutely no control of his movements, and Ivan reminds him of this deliciously, grasping him arms and twisting him side to side to grant access to his neck.

“Little bug caught in my web,” he chuckles, tracing a line down Liam’s chest, drawing small circles onto one of his suddenly hyper sensitive thighs.

He gasps, tries to chase the contact, and can’t.

“What do you want now treasure?”

“Touch me, please,” he whines.

The light touch hardens, so Ivan is squeezing gently instead of tickling. It’s not enough.

“More please.”

Ivan grins. “More what?”

It’s embarrassing to say exactly what he wants, and knows Ivan is aware as the shame bubbles up and out of him.

“Please Master. It hurts.”

Ivan ghosts his fingers over his cock, making it clear that he isn’t going to budge without a direct response. He looks overtly smug, so entertained, playing him like a puppet.

“Please!” he sobs. “I need your fingers wrapped around me, please.”

“There,” and finally Ivan grabs him, tugs firmly, and Liam’s head rolls forward, sound spilling from him, gurgling out of his lips like water. And indeed he starts to drool, but doesn’t care; it feels too good.

“You’re being so good for me. Just a little more,” he says against Liam’s lips. “Do you want my mouth or my fingers?”

Oh, now he’s required to think. Somehow that seems harder than surrendering.

“Both?” he’s trying to communicate what he wants, but his thoughts are sluggish, meeting resistance at every turn.

Ivan flicks a locking mechanism loose and pulls the bar to the edge of the bed. Unable to do anything but drift over, so powerless to where in space his body resides, Liam feels himself throb.

Ivan sits on the bed and locks the wheels in place again. Without pausing Ivan sucks him down to the root, and unable to move away or grab onto anything, Liam shouts in surprise. There is nothing hesitant in the way Ivan sucks him, obscenely bobbing up and down. And he can’t do anything but experience, moan and whimper and shake as Ivan brings him to the edge, before he abruptly stops.

“Noooo,” he whines, panting desperately. “Don’t stop.”

“I thought you wanted my hands as well?”

This confuses Liam, until Ivan grabs something from out of his view. There’s a wet sound, and then without preamble Ivan glides his index finger into him.

“Oh yes,” he sighs, as Ivan starts to pump in and out. He looks down at Ivan, who is grinning ferally, a mischievous glint evident with every shaky exhale Liam tries to grasp onto for balance.

“More please, another finger,” this is easier to ask for, his body thrumming with arousal now.

“That’s better,” Ivan growls, adding his middle finger and thrusting so deep Liam’s breath hitches. He searches for that bundle of nerves, which he finds, and then swallows Liam whole again.

“Too much!” he cries, squirming and thrashing what little he can, hanging inches from the ground.

Ivan pulls back, but still expertly presses against him inside.

“Give me a color.”

They’d agreed after their second session with the jacket that Liam enjoyed the illusion of being pushed beyond his limits. That truthfully he wanted to explore them more, and couldn’t quite pin exactly what they were in some areas until he was there. So they agreed upon Ivan not stopping outright until a safe word was used.

“Green. So good,” he barely has time to suck in a shaky breath before Ivan's mouth is on him again, his fingers thrusting harder and faster until Liam is sure he’s splitting at the seams. His orgasm takes him by surprise, but Ivan expects it, gathering his come around his fingers and then inserts them into his mouth, removing the ones from behind him.

“Such a good boy.”

He sucks firmly on Ivan’s fingers, trying to focus on the taste of himself to ground him.

“Look at me treasure,” Ivan says firmly. Liam blearily opens his eyes. Everything is throbbing, his blood pounding in his ears. “Do you want down?”

Down? He barely knows where up is. But being closer to Ivan sounds nice, so he nods once.

He’s not prepared for the sudden weight that slams into him once Ivan lifts him off his hook, and he lets out a broken sob.

“Shhhh it’s ok. You’re going to feel heavy for a while, but I’m not going to let go.” He feels tears run down his face and wonders briefly if tears with sex will be a constant thing with Ivan. He’s not sure how to feel about it.

He’s faced towards Ivan this time, tucked under his chin as Ivan runs his now clean fingers through Liam’s hair, humming occasionally and kissing him forehead tenderly. Liam’s breath slows gradually, the tears stopping.

“Getting better?” Ivan asks.

Liam nods. “It’s always so intense with you isn’t it?”

Ivan laughs. “Subtly is not one of my strengths, no.”

“Can I say something?”

Ivan shuffles them a bit so Liam is looking into his eyes.

“You don’t have to. I know either way,” Ivan says softly.

“I love you,” Liam whispers.

Ivan kisses him. “You know, it’s almost impossible to know you without loving you, Liam O’Brien."

Liam smiles sadly, self deprecating tendencies fluttering back.

“Oh you don’t believe me? Try asking half of geek and sundry.”

That makes him chuckle. “You’re more than enough."

After a while Ivan unbuckles Liam from the jacket and plops him back into bed and wraps him up in blankets, naked and content.

“Do you mind if I tell the others about us?” Liam asks eventually.

“Who do you mean?”

“Matt and the rest of them.” Ivan more often than not comes to watch the weekly show live now, and stops by the studio occasionally to hang out, at times even when Liam isn’t there.

“Oh I’m almost positive they already know Liam.”

“Has Reigal—“

“No, he doesn’t need to.”

“Then how?”

Ivan chuckles. “You really don’t see it?”

“No. What do you mean?”

“Close your eyes,” and Liam obeys without question. “Take a few deep breaths with me.” It’s so easy to listen, so natural. “How does your body feel? Your shoulders? Your back?”

He searches his body internally, looking for any signs of discomfort.

“Completely relaxed.”

“No aches or pains?”

“Not really. Nothing lasting.”

Ivan trails a finger from Liam’s navel up to his chin. “And that shows to some degree every time I come visit.”

“You really do own me then,” Liam blushes.

“Only the parts you give me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Ivan does in fact own a bull whip that he lights on fire.
> 
> Liam was also in gymnastics as a kid.
> 
> I had no idea just how much kink knowledge I contain. Was it portrayed well? I daresay I might even take some suggestions for the next fic. Any specific kinks you'd like to see that I haven't touched on?


End file.
